


Habitat

by DickBaggins



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Romance, Sastiel - Freeform, and some angst, and some heavy-handed symbolism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-13
Updated: 2014-05-13
Packaged: 2018-01-24 15:36:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1610297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DickBaggins/pseuds/DickBaggins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a secret room at the very top of the bunker where Sam and Castiel pass their time, snuggling and watching the birds and trying to forget.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Habitat

There's no windows in the bunker because, well, it's a bunker, so there are no windows in Sam's bedroom either. He doesn't need them for the temperature regulation since the bunker always perfectly temperate no matter where he is; what he really wants is the sun in the mornings and the birds singing him awake and most of all, something for Castiel to do when he stays overnight. It's a lot to ask of Cas to stay in one place for five or six hours with nothing much to do, so Sam doesn't expect it, not really, and he's always a little surprised to find Cas still with him when he wakes, either curled up around him in bed or leaned against the wall, legs stretched out with a book on his lap, and once or twice, Sam even found him on his laptop, fingers moving with hasty fear around the mouse, tapping at the keyboard like it was made of poison.

Sam actually enjoys getting out of the concrete blandness most of the time, and once Cas points out the weird observatory built on top of the bunker, only accessible through a very particular roundabout way that Cas noticed from the blueprints, they end up spending a lot of time there. It's a big round room, all glass and iron and brass accents and every single window opens out onto the city and onto the big yard that nature reclaimed decades ago. There's a tree that brushes the very top of the dome, rustles soft in the breeze at night and casts beautiful leafy shadows in the morning and and it's in that shadow that Sam and Cas make their comfortable nest of blankets and pillows and books and coffee mugs. It's close quarters but it's perfectly cosy at the same time with endless hours of bird watching and cuddling and sometimes Sam's laptop so they can watch a movie.

When Sam wakes up there, sun-warmed and cat-stretching, he usually finds Cas hanging out a window, usually sidles over to join him, kissing Cas's breeze-cooled face and slipping an arm around his waist. They've been marking the progress of a bird's nest in the tree, just a robin, but it's impressive, Cas remarks one day, that she's cobbled together a nest out of junk, out of dead things and debris and the most brittle twigs, lined it with crunchy autumn leaves and set it up so high and full, he wonders if it isn't a little too precarious. Sam agrees, and they're both happy to see it stay secure, even through rain and wind and one morning, the morning that there's eggs for the first time, Sam feels the strangest, sharpest tug of protectiveness sear through him. Neither of them says anything right away that morning; they spend a lot of time just looking, watching the robin fuss and fret over her nest, fluffing it up around the eggs before she fluffs herself up too and rests astride them.

Cas looks like he's worried about the whole thing, forehead pressed against warm glass, face set in a frownish peer. Sam presses up behind him, wraps his long arms around Cas's bare waist and sinks his face down into the angel's hair. “They'll be okay,” he sighs out, whispery breath rustling Cas's clumpy hair, reminding him of the careful way the nest was made, all the attentiveness the robin already put in, how that must count for something.

Cas doesn't say anything right away but Sam feels his frame sag in a sigh. “Our nest...” Cas starts, doesn't finish, nodding to their mussed up sea of blankets-and-pillows. “It doesn't grant us any security, just because it's there.”

“I know,” Sam whispers back, dipping his lips to kiss into Cas's thick hair. “We do what we can to make it okay.” And there's more, but he doesn't finish it, doesn't want to lay more of a bummer on them so he tightens his grip around Cas's waist and easily spins the angel around, shoving him lightly towards their own cultivated resting spot even while his unsaid words can't stop echoing in his head. _We do what we can to make it okay, but mostly it's out of our control_. 

He never says it but Cas knows anyway, seems to know everything in their unsaid way and it doesn't matter once they're jammed together in their own nest anyway, doing everything they can to simply keep it together.


End file.
